30 years after
by jesterbard
Summary: 30 years after the original problems at Tristram, two new heroes move in to slay new evils
1. 30 Years After_Chapter 1 - Holcroft

30 Years After By Jesterbard  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Ogden carried his meager little fat candle into the cellar of the pub. He looked among the casks, hoping to find a good batch of mead for tonight's festival, but he knew that most of the casks had only weak harvest wine. Oh well. That would have to do. He grabbed a small hogshead and trudged back up the earthen stairs.  
  
"Hello."  
  
"Gahh!" Ogden cried out, dropping the cask on his foot. "Where did you come from?"  
  
The newly arrived stranger replied, "Well, I was born here in Tristram, but I was schooled in the East, in Lut Gholein. Too bad that didn't drop onto my foot instead."  
  
Ogden sat heavily and nursed his stocking covered foot. "I do not think it is broken, but it hurts like Hell."  
  
The stranger held his hands in an arc over the wounded foot. "Let me."  
  
A burst of blindingly white and blue light spread forth from his fingers, surrounding the toe with the warmth of a glacier, but the ice of a bonfire. Light seemed to pierce Ogden's foot and envelop it with a shimmering glow. The toe felt as good as before, only tingly and warm.  
  
"Thank you friend. That is worth a drink on the house, although I only have lukewarm beer and piss poor wine to offer. What is your name? Your face is familiar…"  
  
"I am Holcroft the Younger. As I said, I have spent the past 30 years in Lut Gholein learning ancient arcanum, like the little cantrip I did for your foot. I have another that you will appreciate, but I will only do it if you will give me a room and bed for after carnival tonight."  
  
"Fine, friend, fine. As long as it does not involve my foot getting broken again. I don't have any rooms to let, but you may stay at the old hut next door. Just kick the tavern wench out, since she sleeps with me most nights anyway…uh, for warmth, you understand." Ogden quickly picked up the cask and placed it on the bar with a hollowy 'BMMP' sound.  
  
Holcroft placed his hands upon the cask and this time, a faint purple- lavender glow dripped over the backs of his hands and coated the cask , seeping into it like ink into fine paper. "That should do it. I think you will find the quality of this drink has improved. I never have used this spell before, for they do not drink alcohol in Lut Gholein. I myself have never tried it, but I am not averse to it."  
  
Catching the hint, Ogden brought out a pair of blackjacks from under the bar and wiped their tarry surfaces free of dust before setting them on the bar. He set the bung in the end of the cask and drew off two draughts of the wine. "Well, here we go. If it can just make this bitter stuff a little sweeter, it will be well worth it. I have to provide honey at the tables to keep the locals from burning this place down, since they like to cut my wine with it. It is not very drinkable otherwise." Ogden swirled the mixture in his mug. "This smells much nicer."  
  
Sip.  
  
BOING!  
  
"It's brandy! You have turned 15 gallons of sludge into fine brandy! Well done, Mr. Holcroft. You may stay as long as you like and transform all of the drink in my tavern into this. I am a lucky, lucky man to know you, sir."  
  
Holcroft said, "Hmm. Not what I expected. Is it supposed to burn and tickle in the throat like that? I am still thirsty. This is not a very good drink if you are thirsty after drinking it. I think I will stick to honeymead. Now if you will excuse me, friend, I must go see Aunt Adria." 


	2. 30 Years After_Chapter 2 - Yabada

Chapter 2  
  
CRACK! WHACK! THUD!  
  
"Oof!" Grabzow grunted as Bekka's staff met his padded ribs.  
  
"Sorry." Bekka said, proud that one of her swings had found its way into the old man's nearly impenetrable defenses. They had been training with these four-way combination moves for weeks now and she had finally discovered a feint attack that could make contact.  
  
Pulling himself back upright, Grabzow said, "Unh, that was better. I dropped my concentration for a moment, is all. Now, go fix the stew while I gather more firewood. Play time is over."  
  
She knew that the old man was looking for a way to nurse his sore ribs in private, away from his pupil's gaze. Of all the things she hated about him, one was that he would not only never pull punches, but he would never, ever give a complement when she did something well. The best she could ever hope for was that he would say nothing mean, and that was high praise. She never confronted him on it though, for she was certain that once she did, he would declare their training time over and kick her out of his house. That was the last thing she wanted, since one day she would be ready to leave and on that day the old man would be nursing more than a cracked rib. She had planned for ages how best to kill him for the things he made her do. She knew that she was not ready and would get killed if she really challenged him. Nothing would be more convenient for him than to have his dirty little secret disappear. One day she would leave, but there could be no doubt in her on the day when she would try. That day was coming soon, since she was now 19 years old and of marrying age.  
  
Ha! The day she met a man who could best her at staff fighting would be the first day she considered marriage. A few had hounded after her in the past, but they tended to give up when she hurt their pride by besting them in public with a few smacks from her Bo stick. It seemed to be her only true companion, maybe she should call it her Beau. Marriage. Hmmpf!  
  
Bekka sensed the movement behind her, but kept stirring the stew as if she had felt nothing. Still stirring with her right hand, she slid her left hand down her body under her cloak to the butt of her curved knife. She could feel that whoever was there had slipped into the room and was watching her to make sure that she did not know he was there. Slowly she drew the knife, making sure that her left elbow did not bump the corner of her cloak and give her movement away.  
  
With a whirl, she spun to her left and threw the knife at the figure at about chest level. Realizing too late to stop the knife from leaving her hand that she had thrown at Grabzow himself, she yelled, "Loo…" but the knife had struck before she could get out all of "Look out!" to come out of her mouth.   
  
Grabzow's shield had moved into the path of the knife in a blur. It buried deep into the leather rind of the buckler and resonated with a THUHK. Grabzow stood before her in full maille armor, holding his sword and buckler, his helm pulled down tight to his head. Gruffly, he barked, "So that is how it is to be, eh? Very well, get your staff and meet me outside. It is time for your last lesson. If you kill me, then you may take this armor and helm and weapon. They are all enchanted and will serve me well until the day they serve you well. If you fail, I will have my way with you one last time and then kill you. This is the last time we shall fight."  
  
Disappointed, Bekka quickly grabbed the Beau stick and said a little prayer to Ur, the war goddess, to help her in this fight. Grabzow had already stepped out into the little yard. Thinking only of her best advantage, Bekka went out the back window of the little hut instead of giving him a free shot at the front door. As she rounded the corner of the hut, she saw that Grabzow was poised at the leather front door of the hut, ready to strike her.   
  
Silently she drew her staff back behind her head and came around with it blindly at the base of his neck. The tip struck his maille gorget and rang as he whirled away from the tip, bringing up his sword in defense. It was obvious that she had surprised him and he wanted to end this as quickly as possible. He charged her, using his mass to try to bowl her over. As he charged, she planted her staff end in the ground to give the illusion that she was going to stay put and take the charge. Grabzow's downward stroke cleaved the staff near the base, chopping it like an oaken sapling. Bekka swept behind him with the remaining large piece of the staff and caught him once more in the back of the neck, this time making contact with his spine, since his coif was still twisted sideways from her first attack. The pointed end found bone and scratched open a bloody hole in the back of his neck.  
  
Grabzow turned to face her, grabbing his neck in disbelief, fear in his eyes. Those same eyes turned to fire as he started toward her one last time, murderous intent pouring out of him with the blood and sweat. Grabzow clenched his teeth and raised his sword and buckler a little too slowly. Bekka's staff caught him under the armpit, landing against the already sore rib and knocking him flat onto his back on the ground. The ragged, pointy end of the staff was still stuck there where his sword blow had cleaved it. The splintery point was thrust up through his chest, driven home by his falling body. Bekka did not need to check; There was no doubt that he was dead.  
  
"I'm sorry, father. You always taught me to fight as if each fight was to the death." Bekka slowly sank to her knees, a mixture of guilt, grief, relief and freedom washing over her with the realization that her life had changed forever. She allowed herself a few minutes' pity before she stripped Grabzow's body and laid it in the yard. She spent the next few hours dragging large rocks up from the river and placing them over him in a cairn.  
  
She had seen the old women prepare bodies before and they always said something as they slid the last stone into place.  
  
"Good riddance".  
  
She gathered the armor and took it to the river to wash the blood from it. Also she wanted to get rid of his stink. Too often she had to smell that stench and feel that sweat drip onto her and now she never would again. "Griswold can fix these, I'll bet."  
  
She went into the hut and gathered up her meager belongings into her haversack. She took the sword belt from her father's room and rummaged around for whatever else she could find. She found a vial of red liquid, probably some sort of liquor, knowing that drunk. She also grabbed his daggers, a pouch with about one hundred in gold and his boots. She had been blessed with strong warrior feet just like his, so she would be able to wear these.  
  
Bekka went to the cellar and got the last of the food that had been stored up, roots, jerky and a ball of cheese still in the cloth. It would be a long walk to Tristram, so she wanted to have plenty of energy to get there.  
  
As she started on the road to Tristram, Bekka could smell the first layers of thatch catching from the fire she had set. As she walked, she turned back occasionally to watch that hated house lick up in silent flames. This was a rebirth for her and since she had not been to Tristram in 10 years, she decided to give herself a new name. No one from there even knew she existed anyway. Yabada the Wanderer was born upon the road to Tristram. 


	3. 30 Years After_Chapter 3 - Adria

Chapter 3  
  
In Adria's cabin, a bottle of blue liquid slowly eased its way off of the shelf. Adria noticed the motion out of the corner of her eye and hurried as fast as she could over to its shelf, barely catching it before it could tumble to the floor. She eyed the little nook that the potion had occupied until it was evicted just now, but could find no means by which it had moved. From the doorway to her shack she heard, "Oh, Aunt Addie! You of all people should recognize a Push cantrip!"  
  
"Holly! You scared me to death! I thought I was losing my mind or I had upset a demon or ghost. It is good to have you back. If I had not followed you with my scrying all these years, I would not recognize you." Adria croaked, her voice hoarse from not using it often.  
  
"I just got back an hour ago. I went to the cathedral to pay my respects to the elder Gods and it was in a terrible state of repair. There is a giant hole in the floor right in the middle of the knave! Surely the custodian is dead or missing to have let it get to such a rotten state." Holcroft said, dejected at the memory.  
  
"Unfortunately, there are many things wrong with the cathedral. You remember all of the trouble with Archbishop Lazarus and the missing son of the King? It seems that a strange cult has moved in to the old catacombs and is back in business as if Diablo never left. I have not been able to scry my way in there, since the animals I send down as familiars never return to tell me what is going on." Adria muttered the last, pained at the memory of the weasels, cats and bats she had sent in that never came out. She died a little each time on of her familiars died in her service.  
  
"This cult, does it include sorcerers? You know I would gladly go in there if it means I can advance my studies." Holcroft absently took the bottle from Adria and placed it back on its little shelf.  
  
"Indeed. That is what started all of this mess. A group of wandering pilgrims from the North came this way to finish eradicating the evil of the catacombs. Oh! What a mess. They conned the simple idiots of this town into letting them go down into the catacombs and we have had nothing but raids from devils and critters ever since. The Magi are their priests; they can store spells in books just as we can. The spells are, cough cough…oh. It has been a long time since I spoke to anyone. Hand me that skin, would you?" Adria continued to rub her dry wrinkled throat.  
  
Holcroft reached up on the wall of the hut and took down a skin of wine that was hung on a post there. He poured a draught into a small clay bowl on the table and Adria took it.  
  
"Ah. Anyway, I would go in there to see what is going on, but I have just about had it with all of these morons in the town. They think anything religious is automatically a good idea and never think for a second that it might be a power hungry faction looking to abuse the naive. I said as much at a town council two harvests ago, and the entire town shunned me. I have not spoken to a soul until you returned. With no one venturing into the dungeon, they have little need of an old woman and her potions. I am lucky that I can send hawks out for my food and the river just outside my door is still safe to drink. How long before those buffoon cultists find the old waterworks and pollute our wells again though, Hmm?" Adria took another long drink from the bowl.  
  
"I will go. Your selection of books has dwindled considerably since I was here last. I want to see what kind of spells these heathen cultists brought with them." Holcroft looked at the bottles on the shelf, all of them deep blue, all of them full. "Are these all for the nourishment of the mana?"  
  
"Yes. I have been creating two or three every day to pass the time since I was shunned. I tell you, when you go down into that dungeon, don't bother doing it to save this town. Do it to become a more knowledgeable sorcerer than me. Take these two staves with you. I know that one of them can produce a huge charge of lightning, but I don't know what the other one can do. Gods be with you. Come back more learned and alive." Adria said this last through droopy eyelids, the wine having a strong effect on an old lady.   
  
Holcroft took the frail woman into his arms and gently laid her on her straw mat away from the door. He gently took off her boots and placed them beside the mat. He found her tiny slim dagger and placed it under her pillow, saying a cantrip that would wake her instantly if anyone except he should cross her threshold.  
  
Holcroft went to the cabinet he knew she kept as a larder and took out enough food for two days. There were two pheasants hanging in the cabinet, their necks broken, aging for seasoning. In his time in the East, he had forsworn all meat except fish, so the sight of the dead birds did not make him hungry. There was his old amulet that he had used as a boy, looking as pristine as it had 30 years ago. He took the amulet and put it on. He remembered fondly the times he used to play in the dark huts with his amulet lighting the way like a torch. That would be helpful, for certain. 


	4. 30 Years After_Chapter 4 - Dungeon

Chapter 4  
  
Confident that no harm could come to Adria while he was away, Holcroft started back toward town, a staff in each hand. He wondered what old Deckard Cain could tell him about it, but he didn't know where to even find him any more. It had been so many years ago that the old fart used to linger around the old fountain and look for someone to talk to. Oh, but he could get started talking and you would have to tear yourself away if you wanted to have any daylight left to work in.  
  
There was a girl at Griswold's forge, so Holcroft decided to go to the dungeon to start investigating. As he started in to the dungeon, the darkness suddenly beamed around him as bright as a night with a full moon. He remembered now that he had named the amulet Luna, for the glow was much like the moon. He placed one staff near the entrance and carried the Lightning staff in front of him, ready to blast if anything came toward him.  
  
As he started down the dungeon steps, he saw a man sized figure in the darkness shambling towards him, groaning. There was no mistaking it; This was a zombie, a walking dead man, raised by some evil power as a guardian. It was not armed, but he knew from his books that those fingers were like claws – very septic claws. He readied a spell and held the holy symbol around his neck.  
  
"BEGONE!" He yelled, and the creature was struck in the chest as though by a bolt from a ballista. It fell to the ground in pieces with a splattery noise.  
  
"YUCK!" He also yelled, dodging the falling bits of the debris and trying to breathe through his mouth to keep from vomiting. He nudged a gray withered arm with his foot, but it did not move.  
  
From behind him in the darkness, he heard rapid footsteps and the clank of armor. Out of reflex he turned and cast a spell.  
  
"HOLD" He said and caught a running figure that tipped forward, suddenly frozen from the spell. He lowered it to the stone floor and turned it over to see what this was, man or beast. It was the girl who had been at Griswold's forge just an hour ago back in Tristram. He released the hold spell and she got to her feet, trembling with rage.  
  
"Draw your weapon, fool!" she shouted, readying her sword at him, thrusting experimentally in his direction to see if he would try anything.  
  
"No, I don't think so. Duck!" Holcroft yelled, fingering the holy symbol again. Behind the girl, another zombie exploded as if hit by a galloping horse, desiccated body parts spinning away in all directions. The girl stood back up from a crouch.  
  
"Weren't you sent in here to catch me? You don't look like a town guard. Thanks for not blasting me when you shot that thing by the way." Once she started talking, this girl was hard to shut up.  
  
"I don't know why you are here, nor do I care what those imbeciles in town want with you. I take it you are not from here?" Holcroft scanned the darkness, more amused than afraid, since they were near the entrance and could run up and out to safety if needed.  
  
"I'm Yabada. Yabada the Wanderer. I had no food by the time I got here, so I was forced to steal food from the kitchen of the inn in town. The barkeep caught me and I had to stomp his toe to get away. I ran upstairs, climbed out a window, jumped to a tree and ran to h… WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?!?!"  
  
Holcroft, gasping for air and heedless of the stench, managed to choke out, "You broke his toe just like I did! BWAhahahahaha!"  
  
"It didn't look broken."  
"Ha ha I fixed it."  
"How?"  
"Magic ha."  
"Well, don't do any of that around me, priest. I don't go for magic. It is against Ur Almighty."  
  
Holcroft stopped laughing at this and concentrated his gaze upon her to see if she was really serious. Determining that she was and that laughing at this might get him a newly ventilated lung, he quietly cast his giggle cantrip in reverse, causing his laughter to quickly go away and be replaced by sighing.  
  
"Oh yes." He said, stifling a laugh in spite of the spell, "Can't go around making the Gods unhappy."  
  
Yabada sheathed her sword once she was sure that this clown was no threat to her. Sure, he could do magic, but so far it had only been against these walking corpses. Her father had warned her that when there was great evil in the land, the dead would walk at night. She always thought that it was the mead that made him say such foolishness. Looking absently around at the entrance she said, "I still didn't get to eat. I would kill for a deer leg right now. Is this your staff on the steps?"  
  
"Yes, but you are welcome to use it. I thought you would prefer the sword though. Go ahead." Holcroft motioned toward the staff.  
  
Yabada picked it up, admiring the fine craftsmanship. It had a blade at each end and two ribbons with some odd writing on them. This was much nicer than Beau and more useable. The daggers at each end would certainly do more damage per strike. It felt odd in her hands, alive somehow and made of nothing. It was like holding a long tube of hollow bamboo, but it was as solid as her old oak staff.  
  
"This will do." Yabada nonchalantly muttered.  
  
"Let's go on in further. I see a chest up ahead. Watch your step for zombie parts." Holcroft stepped gingerly forward and crouched at the chest. "Stand back, these are sometimes trapped." He tapped the haft and flipped the lid open on the wooden chest. No trap sprang, but there were two small vials of red liquid.  
  
"Hey, from now on, let me open them up with the end of my staff. I don't want anything springing out on your face." Yabada rubbed her grumbling stomach as she said this, wondering if thing would have quieted enough around the Inn for her to risk showing herself long enough to get some food. "Aren't you hungry, priest?"  
  
"I'm not a priest. My name is Holcroft and yes, I could stand to eat a little food. Do you want to go back? Those mud skulls in town will probably have you crucified for the food you tried to take earlier. Why don't you wait around the cathedral and I will go to the inn and get some food for us. Do you like wine?"  
  
Remembering all of the times that her drunken father yelled and hit and pawed her, Yabada was reluctant to answer, but in the interest of getting a free meal, she went along. "Sure. Anything's fine."  
  
"I'll be back as soon as possible. Stay around here." Holcroft said as they emerged from the hole in the knave of the cathedral. "I'm not a very fast walker or talker, so please have patience."  
  
I'm not very patient when I'm hungry thought Yabada. She poked at clumps of grass with the end of the staff, absently looking for tubers or mushrooms to stave off her hunger until Holcroft got back. She stabbed the blade of the staff into the ground and scraped some of the zombie residue off of her boot. Strangely enough, it turned to dust when it hit the sacred ground around the cathedral. Apparently that much was not violated by the evil in this place. Still not very trusting of magic, she reached down and grabbed a small handful of dirt and placed it in one of her pouches, in case she needed it against another zombie or something like that. Besides, this was religion, a blessed relic, not a horrible spell of "magic". Ur would see no problem with this, she felt sure. 


	5. 30 Years After_Chapter 5 - Return

Chapter 5  
  
Holcroft came back with a leather satchel that clinked from the bottles  
inside. A greasy haunch of meat from some animal was dripping fat through  
its paper wrapping. As hungry as Yabada was, even that looked good.  
  
"Ogden wouldn't let me leave without all of this. It seems his business is  
booming from the new brandy that he serves. Oh, I fixed his toe again,  
ehrhm, hm, hm." Holcroft sat the sack on the ground and fished around for a  
knife to cut off a chunk for her.  
  
"So I run for my life for trying to take it, and then they just give it to  
you with their blessings. There ain't no justice, I swear." Yabada quieted  
herself momentarily by tearing some of the "whatever" meat from the sinew  
and bone. She peeked into the sack and pulled out a green bottle. She  
levered back the stopper and took a big swig to wash down the dry preserved  
meat. "GAKK! Ptoooi! That is (gulp) terrible!"  
  
"Funny, he is selling that to the folks at the festival for ten gold pieces  
per bottle. I myself don't like it, but it washes down food. It makes one  
thirstier afterwards, though." Holcroft pulled a small vial of blue liquid  
that seemed to glow from within from the sack and turned it up. "Ahhhh."  
  
"What was that? Is it better than this? Why didn't you let me have any? Is  
there any cheese?" yammered Yabada, absently sipping at the bottle she still  
held.  
  
"Oh, that is a, um, medicine I have to take to restore my strength. You  
would not like it. It tastes very bad." Holcroft absently fingered a new  
ring on his finger as he talked. It was gold, with the symbol of a small  
furry animal in place of the stone. He hoped that he would not need it, but  
it allowed Adria to send him aid in case he was in great trouble.  
  
Holcroft stood up, shifting his weight and straightening out his tunic.  
"Well, I am going back in. I cleared things up for you with Ogden and since  
he is making money hand over fist right now, he will not bother you. Are you  
going back to town or wandering some more?"  
  
"I don't have anywhere else to go. Do you think whee could find some mohre  
treashure in there? I could really use a niche amulet or something like  
that." Yabada leaned against her staff to support herself as she stood up,  
but sat down again heavily. Her staff smacked to the ground with a loud  
THWACK. "I don't feel so good. Shleepy."  
  
Holcroft thought, 'Why me?' as he watched her slump over on her side. He  
reached down under her arms and was able to pull her up to a standing  
position. He leaned her against his body, noticing for the first time that  
despite her road dust, she did not smell bad. "Gods All Mighty, I hope she  
does not vomit all over my back." With a deft maneuver of his foot, Holcroft  
was able to hoist the staff up to his hand. He stuck the bottom blade into  
the ground and looped the back of her collar over the top blade. With any  
luck, she would not accidentally impale her head on it.  
  
"Now what?" He wondered out loud. If only he could snap her out of this, but  
this was not like any other kind of sickness. It was like a poison, but he  
was fairly certain that she would not die from it. She might beg for death  
later though, when she came around. He gently patted her face and pinched at  
her cheeks. "Are you with me? Wake up, we must walk now. Walking is good.  
Yabada? Here we go."  
  
"MMmmmph. Shtill shleepy. Go away." Yabada leaned against the staff at an  
angle that is only possible for a really drunk person to achieve without  
falling over.  
  
"Alright, I have had enough!" Holcroft prepared a spell and a white powder  
like snow swirled around Yabada's head. Her eyes snapped open, she stood  
straight up, pulled her collar off of the staff, bent at the waist and  
hurled her lunch forcefully onto the ground in front of her. Holcroft ended  
the spell and said, "Well, that was certainly pleasant. Are you okay?"  
  
"UNHhhh. Please kill me. I don't mind, just do it now." Yabada's face went  
from white to flushed to a greenish tint, and settled for a mottled color.  
She moved away from the matter on the ground, pulling the staff out of the  
ground as she went, trying to avoid throwing up again. "Anyway, as I was  
saying. If I am going to get back on the road, I need to get some gold and  
treasure to be able to pay for food and a place to stay along the way. Hey,  
I am getting hungry again."  
  
'Ye Gods! She went back to her normal chattery self in a hurry.', thought  
Holcroft. "Alright then, let us go back in. At least kick some dirt over  
that will you?" he said, pointing vaguely in the direction of the mess on  
the ground. He went back into the doorway of the cathedral.  
  
Yabada half-heartedly covered the mess and hurried after Holcroft. She  
decided not to mix the strange drink with that weird meat ever again. She  
was fairly certain that she did not want to try that drink ever again,  
either. As she and Holcroft entered the dungeon again, there was a rumbling  
in the floor that shook them up through the soles of their feet.  
  
The stones of the floor gave way before they could turn to run. Everything  
seemed to fall in on itself in slow motion, the stones and mortar and dust  
hanging in air and falling with them slowly downward. She managed to look at  
Holcroft's face and saw that he was muttering a spell. That was the only  
thing protecting them, she was sure. He was slowing this fall since he could  
not stop it. 


	6. 30 Years After_Chapter 6 - Portal

Chapter 6  
  
Yabada waved her hand in front of her in a futile attempt to move some of  
the airborne dust. She coughed, but every time she breathed in, there was  
more dust. Holcroft had dust covering his arms and shoulders, even filling  
up his moustache and piled up on his eyelashes. Looking around, it was  
obvious that they had fallen thirty or forty feet. Holcroft was trembling,  
drained by the power he had to use to keep them protected during their fall.  
  
  
Yabada sensed movement out there in the darkness. Several small things were  
coming toward them, but she could not make out the shapes. There were no  
footsteps and there were disturbances in the dust, like large bats or birds.  
As one form darted at her, she heard a screeching noise, like hard metal  
being scraped on stone. When it got close to her, she could see it was a  
tiny man-shaped thing, eighteen inches tall with a demon's face and leathery  
bat wings that ran the length of its body. Out of instinct she swung her  
very light staff and cracked the little skull of the beast. Another one  
plunged out of the darkness straight at Holcroft while he drank another one  
of his odd blue tonics. She swung toward him, pulling the blow so that the  
blade of her staff sliced the flying critter in twain without hitting  
Holcroft.  
  
Holcroft said, "I could get us back to town, if only I had some soil or  
something natural from town. As it is, we will be overcome by these little  
flyers and have all our blood sucked out when we get tired. They can see in  
the dark and alas, I cannot."  
  
Yabada pulled her small pouch from her belt and tossed it to him. "Here is  
some dirt from the courtyard of the church up there. Will that work?"  
  
Holcroft started muttering a spell and spilling the dirt in a stream,  
drawing out a circle in the air in front of them. The circle became a  
shimmering blue portal, hanging in the air, with the courtyard of the  
cathedral visible on the other side, as if they were standing in the knave  
of the church. Holcroft said, "You go first. When you get up there, wait  
near the portal, but do not come back through, no matter what you hear. Go!"  
  
Yabada jumped through the portal and though she knew that the churchyard was  
thirty feet above her, she suddenly found herself bathed in blue light and  
then she was standing in the churchyard. Through the blue portal behind her,  
she could see Holcroft discharging bolt after bolt from his staff, the blue  
fingery traces tearing back and forth across the floor of the catacombs,  
charring the little flyers instantly into cinders. She watched him step  
through the portal.  
  
"Goodness. That was not a very good start to things." Holcroft said, still  
brushing the dust from his robes. Little crackles of blue sparks still arced  
back and forth from the end of his staff, and the tip still glowed red hot,  
cooling to a cherry color. "Someone must have heard us the first time and  
weakened the supports in the knave to trap and kills us. I think that the  
little flyers were there by accident. Are you alright?"  
  
"I'm fine, just dusty. I hate magic, but I have to say that I am glad that  
you knew how to use the arcane arts to keep us alive. I never have asked;  
Why aren't you a fighter? You appear stronger than some of the farmers I  
know." Yabada noticed that something was caught in heel of her boot. When  
she picked it out with her dagger, it turned out to be a ring. "Do you know  
anything about this? I must have stepped on it down there."  
  
Holcroft said, "Walk with me to Deckard Cain by the fountain. He is old and  
forgetful, but he can identify that ring for us. To answer your question,  
the reason I am not a fighter and I am a sorcerer is this." He drew back his  
robe and lifted the leg of his pants, revealing a wooden foot and leg up to  
his knee. "I lost it as a boy. I was training to be a warrior and I caught a  
spear in my leg. The wound festered and even Pepin could not heal me. They  
had to take the leg. I barely remember that day; The pain was so great. I  
passed out from the pain. When I came out of a fever three days later, Adria  
had nursed me back to health, using all of her powers. I knew then that I  
wanted to learn all of the magic I could, since a one legged fighter is no  
fighter at all."  
  
As they reached Cain, Yabada was silent. She could not even speak, thinking  
of the tremendous pain and suffering that Holcroft must have been through.  
She could also see why he had such a great thirst for magic. She had always  
been raised to believe that magic was evil and a waste of time and  
displeasing to Ur, but now having had Holcroft save her life with it several  
times now, she had to admit that maybe it was not so bad. 


	7. 30 Years After_Chapter 7 - Cain

Chapter 7  
  
Cain greeted them as he always greeted everyone, "Hello, my good friends.  
Stay a while and listen." Yabada held forth the ring and Holcroft discretely  
pressed a pouch of one hundred gold into the old man's palm.   
  
Cain took the ring and felt of the tiny bumps in its pattern. He touched it  
to his lips and tasted the metal. He placed it loosely on his finger and  
rolled it up and down the bridge of his nose. He put it to his lips and blew  
through the hole as if it was a whistle.  
  
Yabada turned to Holcroft, "I think he's gone. What is licking it and  
sticking it up his nose going to tell him except that I don't want it on my  
finger now?"  
  
Holcroft shushed her and waved his hand, indicating that she should leave  
him alone and watch.  
  
Cain looked up and said, "Oh, you're still here. What can I do for you?"  
  
Holcroft quickly spoke, shoving Yabada off before she could interject, "The  
ring there that we brought you, what do you make of it, good friend?"  
  
Cain replied, "Oh, this is a ring of great power. This is a ring made from  
an artifact from the temple of Onan. When you wear this ring, a powerful  
automaton or golem will arise from the ground to do your bidding. Beware  
though, that this creature will not understand things as we do. It will not  
even be as intelligent as the average chicken or toad. And they smell a  
great deal like manure, too."  
  
"Thank you for the information, good Elder Cain. We will be very careful in  
using this ring." Holcroft said, backing away from him, respectfully bowing.  
  
"What ring?"  
  
Yabada could barely contain herself as they walked back through town, past  
Griswold's and towards the Eastern stream of the town. "What a silly loony!  
Imagine. A monster made of clay that will fight for us in a dungeon. He  
really is senile, isn't he?"  
  
"Not necessarily. In my studies I read of Onan. He was a powerful priest who  
was envious of the Gods for their ability to make something out of nothing.  
He worked in very strong magicks until he was able to make a man out of  
clay. He had a huge temple in the desert with hundreds of servants, all  
golems like Cain described. When he ran out of things for them to do, they  
all turned on him and crushed him like a grape. The temple fell to ruin and  
was lost in the sands, but occasionally a desert traveler will find  
something with great power that has found its way to the surface. The  
cultists that have invaded here must have found this in their travels and  
brought it with them." Holcroft pointed to Adria's hut ahead of them, the  
large cast iron cauldron out beside it bubbling with a fire beneath it. The  
wind changed direction and they caught a whiff of something really  
unpleasant boiling away. Adria stood beside the cauldron, stirring it with a  
long copper stick.  
  
"Hello, Auntie. I have someone for you to meet." Holcroft motioned   
to Yabada.  
  
"Oh, I'm glad you're here. There was word that there was a tunnel collapse under the Cathedral and I can see from the masonry dust on your clothes you were there. Are you both alright?" Adria said as she tapped the copper stick against the side of the cauldron. She hung it up next to the cauldron on the posts that supported it and shoved a little more firewood under the pot.  
  
"We need to rest up, then we are going back in. I still have not found any books or scrolls." Holcroft took Yabada by the arm and led her around in front of the old lady. "This is Yabada the Wanderer, Auntie. She is a brave warrior." As he took her arm, Holcroft noticed the fine musculature under her surprisingly supple skin. In many ways she was still a child, young enough to be his daughter, but he found himself looking for reasons to touch her without being overt. He was close enough to catch a faint whisper of her scent again. For someone who had been vomiting up everything but her uterus and was covered in old soot and dust, she still smelled surprisingly nice.  
  
"Brave warrior" was an old code word that Holcroft and Adria had worked out long before. It meant that the "Brave warrior" was not a magician and had no desire to become one. Adria caught the hint as he knew she would, but started making hints of her own.   
  
"I have a fresh batch of soap and some cloths you may use. Go over that way to the river and give me your clothes. I will wash them for you." Adria held out her hands, with a dour look on her face, not even considering the possibility of the consideration of the inkling of an idea that either of them could say no.  
  
Obligingly, Yabada grabbed the shoulders of her tunic and heaved it up and over her head. Her hair, which had been tied back behind her head, slipped free from its ribbon and fell gently across her naked shoulders.  
  
Holcroft had obligingly turned his back, but was removing his long boots and breeches, having already removed his shirt and vest. He was now mother naked and standing nearly touching back to back with a beautiful young girl. As nonchalantly as possible, Holcroft side stepped to the river and left his clothes in a pile. 'I know she knows a washing and mending spell. She is the one who showed me. I guess she did this because I let her know that Yabada has a thing against magic. Or she is trying to give me the opportunity to be alone, naked, in a chilly creek with a beautiful young girl. I guess Adria was young once, too.'  
  
Holcroft could not help but watch out of the corner of his eye as Yabada came down to the water. She carried herself as if there was nothing wrong with stripping naked in front of a stranger. She stepped into the water facing him, too, not even concerned that he could see her pale breasts and small red pubic mound.  
  
Splashing gently over to him Yabada said, "Wow. This feels good. I didn't get a chance to have a bath on the road and then there is all that dust from the dungeon. I hope people downstream don't drink this water."  
  
"I am, uh, sure that, uh, precautions are taken. Boiling and agitating and sizzling and throbbing and whatnot." Holcroft realized that he had lost control and was babbling, but Yabada kept leaning back to dunk her hair and bobbing her firm little breasts with their erect nipples in and out of the water. Holcroft suddenly realized that he was tumescent. He would have to stay in the water a while longer and NOT think about the delicious white skinned girl frolicking about 5 feet from him and getting closer..."What are you doing?!?!?"  
  
"What? I'm bringing you the soap. Why? Do you have a boner or something?" Yabada giggled, having said the last part too freely and as she got close, suddenly seeing that it was true. Her laughing abruptly stopped. "What are you doing? Are you going to try anything on me? Even without my weapons, I know right where to hurt you and I see both targets right now, you!"  
  
"NO! I didn't even mean for it to do that. I wouldn't think of touching you unless you wanted me to. I...I've never been with a woman." Holcroft bowed his head in shame, but quickly added, "I've never been with a man, either, I mean. I have never, you know, done, thingy."  
  
"A virgin? I never expected that you would be a virgin. I guess the fact that you are still an explorer without a family or home should have told me something. Well, maybe some time, but not today. Is it still there?" Yabada dunked her face under the water at his waist to look. "Yep. Here is the soap. I will just leave you two alone while I go slowly dry off over here, bending over gently to reach all of my very private places. Hee hee hee."  
  
Holcroft was almost in pain from his erection now. Why did she have to say that? At least she did say that some time she would consider it. Oh. That didn't help. Think about the revolution of the 8th comet around Venus, NO, Uranus, Oh NO!, Jupiter. Good old Jupiter. Big pink Jupiter with its round perky nipple. Oh. This was going to take a while. 


	8. 30 Years After_Chapter 8 - Rest

Chapter 8  
  
Holcroft dried himself with the cloths that Adria had hung on a branch near the river. Yabada had already gotten dressed and was out in the yard near Adria's hut practicing maneuvers with her staff. She seemed to move at double speed; The staff was a blur around her.  
  
As Holcroft approached the hut, she slowed the staff and brought it upright next to herself. She stabbed it into the ground and stood in place, stretching. He noticed that she had not even broken a sweat, despite her super swift movements. He caught her scent again on the breeze and thought for a moment that his earlier problem would return.  
  
Adria came close to him and whispered, "She is really something. Where did you find her?"  
  
"She found me." Holcroft shrugged, his mind racing over the possibilities that he was having to confront for the first time in his life. All those years of study left little time for socialization and no opportunities to meet women. Some of the men he had trained with had given up on their studies and left the school in pairs. He judged himself fortunate that he was near Yabada now, and that he had none of those feelings. Still, worry that she would not like him or that she would weighed on his mind heavily. "I don't know what to think of her, Auntie."  
  
Adria replied, "Well, someday you will know what to think of her, and I hope you make the right choice. Someday you two will teach each other many things about yourselves. You are going back in the dungeon; You must continue your studies."  
  
"Yes, Auntie." Holcroft sighed. Adria always knew how to make him feel like a 5 year old again. "I have this ring that we found in there. I took it to Deckard Cain and he says that it is the ring of Onan and has the power to raise a golem from the ground."  
  
Adria looked at the ring, turning it over in her hand. "I don't know. That is not the impression that I get from it. It seems different somehow, changed. I sense that demons have something to do with it. Oh, well. You will just have to try it while you are in the dungeon."  
  
Yabada stopped swinging the staff and walked up to Holcroft and Adria. "Thank you, Mistress Adria for providing us with, ahem, a bath and entertainment. I think we should be going now, don't you, Holly?"  
  
"Do not call me that. Only Adria calls me that." Holcroft muttered as they walked northwest toward the dungeon. 'This will definitely take a while to live down.'  
  
Finally, his earlier problem had gone away and allowed him to tuck himself back into the front of his breeches. How embarassing! And the worst part was that she had seen it. Oh, would he ever live it down?  
  
When they reached the center of town, the pearly blue shimmering portal was still hanging where they had come out of it. Holcroft said, "We cannot go back in that way; There are sure to be things waiting for us. They tend to do that, they are attracted to the light. Thankfully they will not follow us through. Grab another pound of sand, will you?"  
  
Yabada bent over slowly, then decided to let Holcroft relax. She bent at the knees and crouched to scoop up a bag of sand. When she stood up, Holcroft had unrolled a scroll and was murmuring an incantation. Without breaking his concentration, he motioned to her to pour some of the soil onto the scroll. For once she went along and did as she was asked without interrupting with questions. As she poured the dusty sand, she expected it to pile up on the scroll, obscuring the words. Instead, as each grain of sand fell, it turned blue and exploded in a tiny blue shimmery cloud, never reaching the paper. "In case we need it." Holcroft said as he rolled the crackling scroll up and tucked it into his belt. This was not one of his better spells, he knew that, but now he found himself trying to impress her.  
  
"I'm sure Ur the War Goddess would understand. It is from her ground, after all, that this power comes. Just like the dirt monster you are going to create with that ring." Yabada droned with mock sternness.  
  
Holcroft said, "We can re-enter by the mouth of the caves to the west of town. I remember playing there as a small boy with Wirt. We had something in common, only his left foot was missing, where mine was the right. He was a little older than me. He chose a different trade, merchanting.. The last time I saw him, he was headed east to Lut Gholein. I hope that he made it, but I doubt that he did."  
  
"What is Lut Gholein like? I've never been there." Yabada said, "I've never been anywhere."  
  
"I thought you were Yabada the Wanderer." Said Holcroft.  
  
"Well, perhaps there is much that you do not know about me." Yabada answered, although not snippily. Holcroft left that alone.  
  
"We are almost to the caves. They do not have many of them in Lut Gholein. Plenty of sand, though; It's everywhere you turn. It gets in everything. The spells that I learned there are strange, arcane spells. Nothing like what we have here in Tristram. I could show you, if you would like."  
  
"That's all right." Yabada said, "I'll leave that up to you. Not that I like you doing them, but I can live with it."  
  
Holcroft said, "Let us enter the caves, it is getting dark."  
  
"Are you sure you want to go into the caves at night?" Yabada asked, "Won't things come after us?"  
  
Holcroft absently fingered his amulet and said, "Well, some of that magic that you do not like will protect us. This gives a glow like moonlight, if you have not noticed." Yabada let that one drop.  
  
They crossed the old wooden bridge at the western edge of town and stepped into the cave mouth. 


End file.
